


your hands protect the flames (from the wild winds around you)

by stardustgirl



Series: i'll swim and sail a savage sea (with never a fear of drowning) [2]
Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies), Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: (and used as an excuse by an abusive parent), (if that makes any sense whatsoever), (it's fake tho), Alternate Universe - How to Train Your Dragon Fusion, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bad Parenting, Berk (How to Train Your Dragon), Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Childhood Trauma, Chronic Illness, Dragon Hunters, Dragons, F/M, Fake Character Death, Faked Insanity, Gaslighting, Heavy Angst, Hera's a lot older, Loss of Parent(s), Maul is Ezra's biological father, Night Furies (How to Train Your Dragon), Parent Death, Phoenix Nest Discord, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Shieldmaidens, Single Parents, Telepathic Bond, That's Not How The Force Works, The Force Is Weird In This, Vikings, also, and Sabine's her biological child, so it's a whole hot mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-09-26 22:04:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20396875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustgirl/pseuds/stardustgirl
Summary: The Chief of Berk’s son is mad.This has been common knowledge to the Hooligan Tribe ever since Maul first returned from Raven's Point with his son, unconscious and covered with burns, and claimed to have found him at the feet of a Death Song.  Ezra has remained indoors since, and the tribe has moved on.Years later, Ezra finds himself trapped.  Well aware of his son’s unexplained ability to connect with dragons, Maul has been attempting to weaponize that, forcing Ezra to connect with various dragons in the dead of night for an unknown purpose.  With the promise that no one will believe him even if he manages to escape, Ezra remains, living through the overheard  conversations outside and shadowed memories of faces to match.  Through them, he knows the new heir, Sabine Calebsdotter, has been chosen to replace him in all but name, but that isn’t what bothers him.What bothers him is that Maul somehow expects him to turn the newly-hatched Night Fury he's raising into a bloodthirsty manslayer.





	1. The Windstriker

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LibraryMage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LibraryMage/gifts).

> Title from "Icarus" by Bastille.
> 
> LibraryMage (and the Phoenix Nest Discord as a whole) is very enabling (and also I owe like at least half these plot details to her).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Child Abuse, Purposeful Child Endangerment, Burning, Reference to Animal Killing, Animal Abuse

A blast of hot air hits the ground where Ezra was only moments ago, blackening the stone. He huddles behind a barrier, barely daring to breathe as he hears the Windstriker move behind him. Its claws click against the rock, the only noise in the unnerving silence.

_ “This one doesn’t use fire,” Father says, nodding to the struggling, gargantuan beast in the cage behind him. “But that _ won't _ be a relief.” _

He feels that firsthand when it roars, a loud, sudden cry, and blasts the back of the barrier with air. He yelps, shoving himself away from it and onto the stone as the barrier quickly heats up before imploding.

It stops, but only for a moment. Thankfully, a moment is all he needs.

Ezra gets up and bolts, charging across the arena and scrambling for a shield of some kind. He grabs one off the rack and turns, raising it in time to deflect the dragon’s blast. Frustrated, it roars again before stopping, and he takes the chance to drop the shield.

Ezra stumbles forward, jerking his knife out of its sheath and tossing it out of the way before raising a hand to the dragon and turning away. _ Please work please by Odin please work— _

He senses its intent in time to leap out of the way again, the dragon’s breath scorching his former spot. He skids to a halt and turns, raising his hand again and silently praying to Odin for help once more.

And once more, it doesn’t work.

He bolts again.

“Ezra!”

His father’s hushed command draws him from his muttered prayers and he alters his course, bolting for the man. He catches sight of his arm, outstretched through one of the many openings along the ground floor of the arena, and dashes for it. He’s nearly there when the door slams shut.

“Father! Let me o—”

“Show me that you are actually _ trying _ first,” the man commands, eyes glinting harshly in the dark. Swallowing, he nods, turning in time to face the Windstriker.

It approaches leisurely, tail lashing as it growls low in its throat. Ezra swallows again, trying to avoid looking at its protruding canines.

_ “Make it respect you, first. Odin gave you your ability for a reason. So _ use it._” _

“Hey, bud,” he begins weakly, laughing awkwardly. The dragon tilts its head quizzically, a questioning growl emerging from it. He takes that as a sign to continue. “I, ah, I really like your spikes, and—”

It lunges.

He yelps and stumbles, falling onto his rear as it unleashes another stream of air where his head was only moments ago. His father is nowhere to be seen.

He scoots backward toward the still-barred doorway as the dragon twists its long neck to look down at him, eyes narrowed.

“Hey, uh, nice– nice dragon—”

It roars.

“_Ezra!_”

The door is opening and Father is pulling him through by the arm, the metal slamming shut right as the Windstriker releases another roar. Its tail lashes against the bars, and moments later, one giant eye is peering through as it lowers its head to see the pair. Ezra flinches back involuntarily.

His father turns him around without warning, shoving him back-first against the bars.

“Father– Father what’re you—”

“Making sure you _ learn your lesson._”

The dragon’s breath scorches his shirt and then his skin and he yelps, fighting against his father’s hold and trying to pull away from the dragon. The man only tightens his grip before suddenly loosening it, allowing Ezra to fall onto his hands and knees. The dragon stops its near-flames moments later.

“Keep up, if you can,” his father calls over his shoulder.

Shaking with the pain, Ezra shoves himself to his feet, and staggers after the man.

* * *

Sabine throws her axe at the dragon before ducking its spray of tail spines. The Nadder screeches, raising its wings before charging.

She backs up to a barrier before turning and vaulting over it at the last minute, pulling herself into a crouch on the other side. She tucks tightly against the wood, breathing shallow as she listens for the dragon.

The Deadly Nadder thumps across the arena, screeching at someone else before charging. Sabine takes her chance and bolts.

The Nadder catches sight of her movement and turns, raising its wings higher than she would think possible before charging at her instead. She slides behind another barrier and ducks, eyes scanning her surroundings for another weapon. Finding one, she peers over her shoulder and across the top of the barrier to see the dragon still hunting for her. It sniffs the air, large nostrils almost as big as her head, and swivels its head as it searches for movement. Kriff. She’ll have to wait until it’s distracted.

A shout from one of her compatriots across the ring draws its attention away, thankfully, and she runs for the shield. The dragon must see her, because it wheels about, screeches, and charges for her again.

She snatches the shield and continues to run, making her way back to her axe. She grabs it and raises both weapons, hitting the axe against the metal _ skjölrönd. _ Sabine merely winces at the noise, but the dragon cowers at it, screeching desperately before turning and running the other way. She follows, continuing to bang the metal against each other as she follows it back to its cage. On the terrace above the ring, Zeb pulls the lever to shut the cage, shooting her a proud smile and opening his mouth to congratulate her.

A slow clapping interrupts him.

They glance to the other side of the arena where, on the terrace ringing it, Maul walks toward them. The Chief has on a wide smile as he nods to her.

“Bravo, Calebsdotter, bra_vo. _ All dragons will rue the day you join the war. It appears your teaching has paid off.” He says the last part to Zeb, who nods.

“She jes’ absorbs what all we’re teachin’ ‘er, Chief.”

“She does the same with the rest of her studies, it seems.” His smile widens, if possible.

“She’ll make a fine Chief one day, if ye don’t mind my sayin’, sir.”

“That she will.”

“Thank you, sirs.” She nods in respect to both of them.

“Class is done for the day if you need to go,” Zeb replies. She nods again, putting her axe over her shoulder as she walks toward the arena exit. She pauses to replace the shield on the rack before turning and continuing.

Her mother meets her outside the ring. “That was fast,” she says, smiling. Sabine nods in agreement.

“Normally it pays attention to me more, so I was actually able to get my axe back for once,” she agrees.

“I’m glad.”

Maul appears, striding toward them easily. “She did very well today, Hera.”

“Good. And I trust her other training is going well, too?”

Maul nods. “Spectacularly.”

“And how is...your own son?”

Maul’s expression darkens momentarily, and Sabine finds herself already wishing her mother hadn’t risked asking. “Ezra is as to be expected,” he finally grounds out, nodding. “If you’ll excuse us, Sabine must attend to her other duties now.”

“Of course.”

With that, Maul nods to her before beckoning with a hand. Sabine obeys, offering her mother a brief wave before following.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> skjölrönd = metal rim of a round shield


	2. The Egg

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Restraint, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Withholding Treatment for Injury from a Child, Referenced Death of Parent, Child Abuse, Effects of Long-term Gaslighting

He hears Father’s excuse to come upstairs before he ever actually _ sees _ the man.

The girl remains below, either carefully ignorant of their “arrangement” or, more likely, choosing to ignore it. In all honesty, if he were in her situation, he might do the same.

Father’s footsteps creak up the stairs, Ezra’s anxiety growing with every step. The man’s head appears above the final one and he smiles as he approaches, though it’s a cruel one.

“How are you?”

Ezra glares at him, gaze thick with hatred. His father knows very well that he couldn’t respond even if he wanted to; upon returning home shortly before dawn, he had gagged the teen so his whimpers from the still-lingering pain would be inaudible to Sabine.

“Very well. If you don’t want to speak, that’s your own choice,” Father continues smoothly after the pause, shrugging as he reaches the bedside and stops to look down at him. One would almost think he’s continuing the act just for his sake.

“Let me see your burns,” the man whispers. Obeying reluctantly, Ezra rolls onto his side, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes as the fabric of his tunic rubs against the tortured skin. He feels his father pull the fabric up and off his skin, fingers carefully probing the small area on his back that isn’t covered by blistered flesh.

“How did you walk all the way back?” his father murmurs. He doesn’t reply, knowing his father doesn’t expect him to before he slowly replaces his shirt. “I’ll get you some honey for these later, once the girl’s asleep.”

His father turns to leave. Ezra shifts, ignoring the pain and mumbling something through the gag. Father turns halfway back, raising an eyebrow.

“What? You want me to stay?”

Ezra nods vigorously, shifting again. _ Please. Please don’t leave me alone with these. _

Father stares at him for a long moment before smiling and shaking his head. “No. I don’t think so. But you’ll have tonight off to recover.”

He goes to leave again, this time not even listening to Ezra’s muffled pleas.

* * *

His father glances up as he shimmies along the rock ledge, wincing as his back brushes against the stone. Thankfully, his father doesn’t say anything until he reaches the ground, stumbling across the cove toward him.

“Hurry, boy.”

He nods, stopping a few feet away from his father and staring down at the egg.

It’s dark, so dark he would think it’s just another shadow if it weren’t for the one it’s casting on its own. It’s smooth, slightly oblong, and he doesn’t recognize it.

“What—“

“Night Fury,” Father cuts him off. “The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.” He looks at Ezra. “I want you to hatch it.”

“Wait, _ what? _ You want me to _ hatch _ a– a _ dragon?!_”

“Yes.”

“But it’s– its—“

“A Night Fury. I know.”

“I—“

“Listen to me, boy,” his father growls, grabbing his arm without warning. “I don’t appreciate your reticence. You _ will _ hatch this egg, because you have no other choice. You could run into the village screaming and raving about me, and who would believe you?”

“No one.” Ezra drops his gaze.

“No one,” he repeats. “Good boy.”

He tries not to squirm.

“Where am I to keep it, Father?”

“We’ll find a spot at home. No reason to risk another dragon coming upon it out here. Now come.” He turns and starts walking back to the village. Ezra hesitates for only a moment before following.

“Father?”

“What.” His tone is flat, brokering no room for discussion, but Ezra presses on.

“Why do you want me to hatch it? I thought you only wanted adults.”

“I do.”

“Then why—“

“Because you are clearly _ incapable _ of connecting with and controlling adults. Do you want another massacre?”

“No.”

“Then don’t _ ask _ for one. Many people here have lost to the dragons. Sabine lost her father. The Kells lost their house. You lost a cousin, before you were born. Odin gave you your gift so you could help us win this war. So _ use it._”

Ezra nods, the speech familiar. “But where’d you even _ get _ the egg?”

“Qi’ra brought it. She said she found it on the shore of the Nest.”

“Was Han with her?” Ezra asks, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. His father casts him an unreadable gaze but answers.

“Yes.”

“Did he say if he’s coming with her again?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “He didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“I’m still not sure why you’re so fascinated with him. He’s merely one of her grunts.” They both know that’s a lie, have both seen the way he looks at her and she at him, but he decides to humor his father and shrugs.

“I just think he’s cool.”

His father snorts. “If he’s who you look up to, no wonder you’re a failure.”

Ezra bites his tongue and stays silent.

* * *

When Ezra comes home a few nights later, smelling of smoke and dragon blood, the egg is gone. Or, more rather, everything except the egg_shell _ is gone.

He’s glad that his father isn’t here, isn’t here to see his panic, isn’t here to see the absence of the hatchling.

He needs to search for it, but Sabine could wake up at any minute….

Though, his father’s plan does have _ one _ benefit: she won’t think it odd to see the mad boy searching for a baby _ dragon. _

So he begins searching.

Sabine comes out halfway through and he jumps, heart pounding as he catches the axe blade under his chin out of the corner of his eye.

“Who are you, and why are you in the Chief’s house?”

He swallows, trying to move away from her, but she follows with the blade. The fact that he’s crouching and she’s on her feet doesn’t help much, either.

“I’m his kriffing _ son,_” he mutters, blinking into the fire. “And I’m looking for my baby dragon.”

“...okay.”

“Can you move the axe?” he asks after a long moment. There’s silence. It’s a long while before Sabine finally answers.

“No. Not until I know you’re really his son.”

“Want me to prove it?” he sighs.

“How—“

“My mother’s name was Iona. My dad married her when they were nineteen, and she died in childbirth. The earliest dragon attack I remember was eleven years ago and only two Vikings were killed, but I don’t remember what their names were, so don’t ask. When I was nine, I met a Hideous Zippleback at Loki’s Jest and—“

“Okay okay, you’ve convinced me.” She pulls the axe away from his throat and he stops, blinking again. “But why does Loki’s Jest matter?”

He blinks. “That’s when Father brought me home. When I– when I went crazy.”

“No, no it’s not.” Sabine shakes her head. “You were up at Raven’s Point, and it was a Death Song, not a Zippleback.”

He hesitates before replying. Is she right? Is he really just remembering wrong? Maybe he _ is _ crazy, and Father’s right. Maybe he’s not meant to talk to other people. And maybe this is why.

“Oh,” is all he ends up saying.

“But you were saying something about a baby dragon earlier, right? What...what did you mean?” There’s an odd, quavering quality to Sabine’s voice that unsettles him more than any crackling hiss of the gas head of a Zippleback, but he can’t place why.

“It doesn’t matter, and I need to go bef—”

“_What did you mean?_” she asks in a more urgent tone, grasping his arm. He flinches.

“It– it was tiny, okay?! Just barely hatched, I think while I was upstairs and I just must not have heard it. Just– just _ please _ don’t tell my father, _ please. _ If he finds out it hatched while I was go– upstairs—oh gods, oh no, Odin please please ple—”

“_Ezra. _ Calm _ down._” She braces her hands on his shoulders and he yelps, pulling out of her grip and wincing. She frowns. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I just...I fell out of bed the other day, and I’m still kind of sore...sorry. Please just...if you’ve seen it, tell me where it is, and I’ll take it and be out of your hair—”

“I know where it is. Come on,” she says, beckoning. He rises to follow but she whirls before he can take a step, putting one finger up. “But first—I need to know _ why _ you’re doing this.”

“So we can win the war. So we can– so we can stop it, stop _ them, _ the dragons, I mean. Stop them from taking other people, like– like they took your dad.” She visibly winces and he curses himself. “Oh, sorry, I—”

“It’s fine,” she mutters. “It’s fine. Just...come and get your dragon. I don’t want to see it again.” He nods and follows her.


	3. The Poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Child Abuse, Animal Abuse, Deliberate Poisoning of an Animal, Implied/Referenced Kidnapping, Restraint of an Animal, Implied/Referenced Animal Death

The hatchling grows, and quickly.

It’s nearly a foot long after only a couple of weeks, and its favorite habit is climbing out from under the bucket that is—_was, _ now—its home. Now, it sleeps in the locked room. Ezra can’t help but worry for it, in case it gets lonely or hungry or needs something.

But every time he checks on it, it appears fine, either napping or rushing up to greet him and mewling quietly. It claws on his pants, sharp daggers of nails tearing through them as a knife does butter.

Father frowns the next time he sees him.

He pulls out the dragon cage soon after, bringing it up while Sabine’s back at her mother’s for half the night. “It’s going in this.”

“Father, wh—”

A backhanded slap sends him to his knees and he winces, eyes shuttering closed.

“Do as I tell you, boy. No questions. Put it in the locked room.” Ezra nods and obeys, ignoring the creature’s pleading emerald gaze as he leaves.

They haven’t even left the house when it starts screeching.

Ezra rushes back up the stairs, throwing open the door to the room and breathing hard. It falls silent upon his entry, crooning softly. His father walks up behind him, handing him a leather contraption he knows all too well. His jaw tightens.

“Put this on it.”

“And what if I don’t?” he asks quietly.

His father’s nails digging into his shoulder are enough of an answer and he nods, moving to the cage. “Sorry,” he whispers, unlocking it and pulling the small creature out. It curls into him reflexively, and the gesture makes him feel even worse as he puts the muzzle on. It immediately pulls back, growling in confusion and pawing at it. “Sorry.”

“Now put it back.”

Obediently, Ezra does.

“Shut the cage.”

He obeys.

“Follow me.”

Ezra trails behind his father as they leave the puzzled hatchling behind.

* * *

They reach the shore after a short time, Ezra hurrying after his father to stumble down the slope. The man spreads his hands as he reaches the rocky shore, smiling at the Hunters standing next to the boat. They don’t appear amused.

“Ah, my friends,” he calls. They remain silent. “Where is Qi’ra?”

“Here.”

The woman rises, sharp eyes holding Father in place as she retrieves the object from the boat.

“You’re late.”

Father shrugs. “The boy took his time.”

Her gaze shifts to Ezra as she wades through the icy water, seemingly unaffected by both it and the weight of her crimson cloak of scales as per usual. “Don’t blame him.”

She reaches the rocks and walks boldly up to Ezra, handing the box off to a subordinate before opening her arms. He moves to accept the hug, ignoring the way his father looks on them with distaste.

“How are you?” she whispers into his hair.

He only shrugs, and she keeps the hug for a moment longer before breaking away. He obediently steps back to his father, ignoring the way the man’s hand curls around Ezra’s shoulder upon his return.

“How’s the egg? Has it hatched?”

His father nods. “Yes. It’s around a week now.”

“Good.” Qi’ra shoots a glance at Ezra, addressing her next question to him. “Where is it?”

“Back at the house.”

“The _ house? _ You brought a dragon into your _ house, _ Maul? What—“

“I don’t need you telling me how to run a _ proper _ household, Qi’ra,” he says in a quiet, dangerous voice. She bites her lip, and Ezra catches her absently tracing the thrall’s brand on her wrist. “Now. Where’s the item we came for?”

She turns and the same subordinate as before hands her the box again. Turning back to Father, she raises a brow, voice cold and professional. “Where’s my payment?”

“Here.” Father releases his grip to turn, digging into the satchel he brought before withdrawing a small pouch of coins. However, instead of dropping them into her waiting hand, he pauses. “I need to know they will work.”

Qi’ra holds his gaze for a moment before sighing, rolling her eyes and withdrawing her hand. “Come to my ship then. I have dragons there. I don’t trust you to walk away to ‘test that’ and not come back with my money.”

“Reasonable. Come, boy.” Father clasps his hands behind his back and waits as Qi’ra gestures for a couple of her Hunters to pull the dinghy all the way ashore. He steps forward and climbs into it, Ezra following suit; Qi’ra waits to enter until they’ve already pushed off. Ezra shifts, scooting uncomfortably close to his father when a Hunter vaults over the side and takes the oars. Neither Qi’ra nor his father move.

When they reach the longboat, she goes up first, though when she reaches down to help Ezra and his father up, she helps the former first. When his father finally arrives on the deck, he shoots Ezra a glare. The boy flinches and ducks his head.

“This way.” Qi’ra leads the way belowdecks, and instantly Ezra’s nerves are alight. Dragons are pressing against his mind, making a loud enough clamor both within and without that he stumbles into the wall. He remains there for a second, trying to regain his bearings, but Father pulls him away only moments later.

“Don’t,” he growls.

Ezra nods.

They pass every breed of dragon he can think of. A particularly irritable Nadder screeches, eyeing them, but doesn’t attack the bars. A Thornridge on the other side of the corridor shifts, smoke smoldering out of its nostrils as if edges toward the bars.

Ezra shrinks back against his father.

Qi’ra stops in front of a cage of three Terrible Terrors, pulling a small vial from her pocket and clucking to one of the dragons. It takes a moment, but slowly, it approaches, cocking its head.

She reaches a hand through the bars and grasps it by the wing.

It shrieks, thrashing without warning. She puts the cap of the vial in her mouth, twisting it loose before shoving it into a device Ezra doesn’t quite catch the details of and jamming the contraption into its neck.

It continues thrashing, and she continues restraining it, eventually letting it loose to scramble back to its friends.

“Come,” she calls after a minute. It begins spamming but approaches slowly, seeming to struggle against its own body as it screeches. “Lie down.” It obeys, still struggling. “Stand.” As it rises, it shakes even harder, and she turns to Father.

“I wouldn’t use the venom on it until it’s older and bigger. As you can see, using it when it’s smaller has some...unintended side effects.” Father nods.

“Here’s your money,” he says, handing her the bag.

She accepts it with a smirk, handing the box over. “And your poison.”

* * *

The dragon croons in distress, continuously pacing the shoreline and pausing to warble periodically. Behind her, she hears the Man and one of the Nadders land. She swings her head around, warbling again but not going to greet them.

“Ný? What’s wrong?”

She only understands her Calling and the fact he’s posing a question, and turns in answer, looking out over the water.

“Your eggs?”

She warbles again, and the Man approaches, carefully reaching a paw out to touch her head. She lets him, for once.

He inhales deeply, and she recognizes that he’s about to tell her something that bothers him, the same way he always does. “Ný...if you need to go, you can leave. If you need to find your egg.”

She croons softly, turning to look at him. He’s tall, nearly enough to reach her head when she’s standing on all fours. Most of the Killers are not his height.

“I’m serious. If you need to, you can go, girl. Please. I’m not keeping you here. This isn’t meant to be permanent, unless you want it to be. And if you ever need to come back, well….” He opens his mouth, teeth visible as his lips curl upwards, and she tries to mimic it like usual. He laughs, nudging her. “Go on, girl. Go find it. We’ll be here when you come back. I understand being taken from your kid.”

She only looks at him for a moment longer before unfurling her wings as he steps away, raising them before beating down in a gust of wind. The water recedes briefly from the force of the mini gale, and she turns, arcing away from the island as she begins to track the ship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not quite sure whether Qi’ra’s Ezra’s psuedo-aunt or pseudo-sister, but if it works it works.


	4. The Mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Threat of Animal Death, Threat of Death to Child, Referenced Animal Death, Animal Abuse

Qi’ra strides across the deck, opening her mouth to give orders regarding the newest dragons—a small family of Nadders they’d found just off an uninhabited island in the Archipelago, far south of Berk—when she sees the shadow.

“Dragon!” she calls, already ducking in time to avoid the plasma blast that hits her cabin. She curses sharply, already pulling her shortsword and vials of Deathgripper venom. If the dragon gets close enough, she’ll kill it or subdue it; doesn’t matter which.

Of course, if the dragon turns out to be a Nightmare...killing it is enough.

“Get that fire out, and get the bolas up and running!” she orders, weaving through the deck until she reaches the stern. She walks up, standing solidly and staring out at the dragon rapidly coming around for another shot. She holds a hand up, waiting until the dragon’s close enough she can make out its approximate length before dropping her hand.

“Fire at will.”

The dragon fires, too, but only burns half of the mainsail. Qi’ra’s Hunters have better aim.

Qi’ra smiles as she watches the dark bundle of rope and scale crash into the ocean.

* * *

“Oh, they’re brutes all right, they’re just _ intelligent _ ones,” Qi’ra’s saying as Ezra approaches. Father nods in agreement with her statement as his son stops next to him.

“Why are you back so soon?” he asks bluntly. His father shoots him a Look that he pointedly ignores.

“Because of this beauty,” she says, smiling as she steps back to reveal a caged dragon. Its eyes are sharp, daggers digging into Ezra’s soul. It growls, shaking and pulling against its restraints as he watches, and he flinches back against Father.

“What is it?”

“A Night Fury. Ah _ adult _ Night Fury,” Father says, voice cool and neutral. His gaze betrays nothing, either.

“We caught her a few miles southwest of Berk around a week ago. I wanted to make sure there were no others in the area before moving on.” Qi’ra’s gaze flashes as she holds Father’s own. “But you’d better make your decision soon. I have other clients who would gladly overpay for her.”

“Then why come to me first?”

“I need to get her off my hands as soon as possible. She’s been...troublesome.” She shoots another gaze at the jet black creature, still snarling despite the muzzle clamped over her head. “Among other things.”

“_What _ other things?”

“Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” she says smoothly. “Now. Do you want her, or not?”

His father seems to think for a second. Finally he nods, gaze hard. “I'll take her.”

* * *

When Ezra lets the hatchling out later—he’s begun calling it Eir, after the goddess, though if it turns out to be male he can change it—it’s oddly subdued. He frowns.

“Eir, you okay?”

The dragon pointedly ignores him, curling up with its tail draped across its nose and laying faced away from him. He sighs, moving to stroke its neck spines. It moves without warning, sitting upright and twisting around to hiss and bare non-existent teeth at him. He stares at it for a moment, and upon withdrawing his hand, it immediately curls up again.

He settles on cleaning its muzzle, frowning at the blood staining the iron. He scrapes at it with a knife until it begins to flake off in large chunks of purple-brown. Eventually, he hears Eir begin to start snoring loudly.

The door opens only minutes later.

Ezra jumps, dropping the muzzle and waking Eir. The dragon lets out a small screech, growling as it shifts onto its feet. Ezra scrambles into a standing position, still gripping the small knife he was using to scrape the blood off as Sabine enters.

“What’re you doing up here?”

She shrugs. “Your dad’s fostering me. He never said I’m not allowed up here. And now that I know about the dragon, you don’t have any other secrets.”

He glares at her. “Leave.”

“Nope.” Sabine moves to lean back against the wall, folding her arms, and he rolls his eyes.

“What do you want?”

“I want you to get that _ thing _ out of the village.” At this, Eir snarls, unfurling her wings slightly. “It’ll burn it all down in minutes.”

“It _ won’t._”

“It _ will._”

Ezra just rolls his eyes again, moving to Eir. The small dragon tucks itself into him, burying its head under his arm and glaring out at Sabine.

“It’s going to kill us all.”

“It _ won—_“

Eir’s head suddenly pops up, skull hitting sharply against Ezra’s underarm as he winces. It makes an odd crooning noise, sniffing the air.

And then it bolts.

“Eir—!”

“Dragon—!”

Ezra scrambles to his feet, running after the hatchling as Sabine turns, already raising the axe in a ready position as she follows.

Ezra catches up to Eir at the door, the small dragon scratching at the wood. When he arrives, it turns, hissing before clawing at the door again. He scoops it up, flinching as the hatchling screeches and claws at his face. Sabine arrives, opening the door and leaning out. “Dra—“

He moves to stop her. Eir takes the chance to jump out of his arms and bolt. Again.

He gives up on Sabine and follows, trying to keep the dark dragon in his line of sight despite the shadows that allow it to blend in. Eir leads him into the woods, and he nearly loses it a few times. He continues running, his breathing starting to become more labored as it continues weaving between the shadowed tree trunks. Still, Ezra keeps up.

He has to.

He has no other choice.

He stumbles through the darkness, stepping on a loose rock and sliding several meters before he grabs onto a tree to stop himself and nearly slices his palm open with the knife. Breathing hard, he gets to his feet, swallowing hard and continuing again.

_ Why does Raven’s Point have to be so kriffing ste— _

His thoughts are interrupted by a soft cry, and he hurries faster. Ezra’s half-running half-sliding down the slope at this point, and when he reaches the bottom of the cove he catches himself from falling on his face only by falling onto his hands and knees. Slowly, he gets to his feet.

Father stands before him, the bound adult Fury at his feet. The hatchling sits nearby, clawing at a makeshift muzzle made of chain and rolling around as it tries to paw it off.

“Fa– Father—“

“Ah, good. It worked.” The man clears his throat. “I want you to kill it. _ Now._” He gestures to the massive dragon in front of him.

“I—“

“_Now, _ Ezra. I want you to kill it, and connect with the hatchling.”

“What—“

“I have a hypothesis you’ll be testing. So kill it. Before I let it loose on you.”

“She won’t kill me.”

His father’s gaze hardens. “Do you really want to test that?” Ezra falls silent as his father continues. “I’m not the one who smells of its hatchling, and of the hatchling’s blood.” The knife. He still has the knife he was using to clean off the muzzle. “I’m also not the one here who’s armed.”

His pleas begin in a rush. “Father, please—“

“You have ten seconds.”

“Father—“

“Nine.”

“Please, please please please—“

“Eight.”

_ No no no no no no— _

“Seven.”

He stares at the knife, trying to choke back the sobs rising rapidly in his throat.

“Six.”

“Father, please don’t make me—“

“Five.”

He shakes his head wordlessly, not even trying to stop the sobs now.

“Four.”

“Please, Father, please.”

“Three.”

“I can’t, please I can’t—“

“Two.”

His father kneels, grasping the loose end of the knot near the dragon’s shoulder that Ezra knows will release all the others.

“One.”

“Father—“

He slashes the rope.

The Night Fury releases herself with a screeching roar, rearing up on her hind legs as her wings unfurl bigger and longer than he’d ever thought possible. Father takes a neat step back as the dragon comes back down to all fours, nostrils flaring as she sniffs the air. She swings her head around until she finds Eir, crooning quietly to the hatchling. By now, it’s stopped fighting the muzzle, and runs toward the adult.

And straight past her.

It smacks into Ezra’s side and he grunts with the force, smiling and rubbing its head.

The adult Night Fury roars again, wings unfolded and spread as she glares at him. He swallows as Eir begins to back up, glancing back at the female Fury before turning fully and dashing toward her. Her tail whisks forward, nudging the hatchling behind her, and she returns her full attention to Ezra as her eyes narrow. She opens her mouth, glistening teeth now retracted as it begins to heat blue. Eyes widening, Ezra realizes what she intends to do.

“No, no, no—“

Above, a dragon roars.

And then another. And another.

Ezra stares straight upward to see a massive flock of dragons heading toward the village.


	5. The Lost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Implied/Referenced Child Neglect, Purposeful Child Endangerment, Kidnapping, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied Threat of Death to Child, Effects of Long-term Gaslighting, Accidental Self Injury (Non-graphic)

Ezra bolts before the Night Fury, or the dragons above, have a chance to fire. Breathing hard, he pushes his way into the underbrush on the far side of the cove, stumbling over rocks as he reaches the rock wall that surrounds it. Kriff. He’ll have to climb that at some point if he wants to get out.

And he’ll be exposed the whole time.

Biting his lip, he risks a glance over his shoulder. Father’s long gone. Not that he’d help him, anyway. The Night Fury is ignoring the cries of her hatchling, instead watching the sky and sniffing. She lets out a loud cry, and Ezra instinctively holds his breath.

And as it turns out, his instincts are correct.

There’s a loud _ whoosh _ and a gust of wind as a huge, four-winged dragon, a kind he’s never seen before, lands in the cove in front of the Furies. The female bounds forward, warbling again as she moves past the dragon and to...a _ human? _

The figure almost seems to _ get off _ the dragon—_no, that’s impossible, people don’t _ ride _ dragons, they’re not horses—_and approaches the Fury. They extend a hand, to which the Fury immediately presses her muzzle against and warbles softly.

Ezra decides to take his chance while they’re distracted.

He moves quickly, breaking out into the open as he scrambles up the steep slope for the small break in the rock he can see ahead.

A roar breaks him from his focus.

The massive dragon’s head has swiveled nearly all the way around. Growling softly, its gaze tracks his movement as it shifts to move the rest of its body to face him. The human at its side turns, too, and Ezra realizes he needs to move. _ Now. _

He turns back to the task at hand, trying to get to the hole and out before the dragons can get to him. The knife in his grip slashes his palm as he reaches for a rock too quickly and he cries out, dropping it and releasing his grip on the rock.

He falls.

* * *

When Ezra’s eyes open, he sees air.

Clouds.

The sky.

Everything that _ shouldn’t _ be near him is terrifyingly close.

And then he hears a quiet roar.

He glances up.

The head of a dragon peers down at him in turn, and he recognizes the things holding him as claws.

He passes out again.

* * *

Ezra groans, blinking in the half-light as he rubs his forehead and sits up.

A curious warble breaks him from his confusion and he jumps, hand clapping over his mouth to muffle an instinctive yelp when he turns to see the dragon sniffing the back of his head. It moves back, head turning nearly upside down. Ezra blinks in shock.

It’s the same dragon from the cove.

He tries to stand up, but the dragon narrows its eyes. Swallowing, Ezra nods and sits.

“Okay. Okay,” he says to himself. “You’re just...you’re just in a cave, with– with an adult dragon, and it isn’t– it isn’t killing you yet—“

The dragon’s head twists halfway around again without warning and it makes a noise that sounds almost like a chirp—or would, if it were more high-pitched at least—as it bounds off away into the cave. Shaking, Ezra gets up, shoots another glance in the direction the dragon went, and bolts the opposite way.

He makes it halfway down a tunnel when a low growl interrupts him.

He stops and turns, slowly, until he’s facing the tunnel branching off of his. He can see the glinting eyes of an unknown dragon as it approaches and moves enough into his tunnel that he can see its silhouette, snarling low in its throat.

“Please don’t please don’t please please _ please _don’t—“

“Ný!”

At the sudden call, the dragon’s head shoots up, two of the smaller frills—_ ears, _ he realize, or what stands for them—perking up as well as it turns to croon warmly at someone approaching.

“Light,” they call; Ezra can vaguely make out the same figure as in the cove. The dragon seems to understand them, opening its mouth and producing a blue glow. The same, he realizes, as the Fury in the cove did when she was about to fire.

Gulping, he takes a step back.

The figure stops next to the Fury, seeming to size Ezra up. He can barely make out the person’s eyes, they seem to be shadowed somehow. Finally they turn to the dragon. “You can bring him, but _ don’t _ hurt him. I don’t want him dead yet; we need to know where the others are.”

“Wait, wait, what _ oth—_“

Ezra’s query is cut off as the dragon sweeps forward, growling and moving behind him to nudge him forward. He yelps, shoulder sliding roughly against the rock, but she either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as she continues.

The awkward trip continues until they reach a wider cavern. The dragon nudges him one more time, shoving him to his knees on the stone, before moving away. In the near darkness, he can just make out her movements as she goes to a hatchling across the cave. No, not _ a _ hatchling. _ Her _ hatchling. _ His _ hatchling. Eir.

And around the perimeter of the cave, he realizes, are dragons. And not just a couple. A _ lot _ of dragons.

_ Kriff. _

A sudden noise pulls his attention away and back to the figure. A dragon approaches from behind, the same one he saw when he woke up, and without asking, it starts to produce just enough fire to produce light.

The figure approaches him, drawing something from a sheath over their back. A quiet click, and then it erupts into flames.

A sword.

_ No, not a sword. That’s...that’s not a sword. That’s a sword on _fire.

Maybe he really _ is _ mad, just like Father says. Because swords don’t light themselves on fire.

The figure approaches and stops just before Ezra. The teen finds himself honestly surprised that he hasn’t tried to move back more.

“Where are the others?”

Ezra blinks, raising his gaze from the stone to the figure. Now that they’re closer, he can make out more details; the human’s voice seems masculine and their eyes watch Ezra carefully, as if he’s a snake just waiting to strike.

Only, Ezra’s not sure if he’s the snake or the rabbit.

He swallows. “I...I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think you do. If you found Ný’s child, you would’ve found the others.”

“I don’t know– I didn’t _ find _ it, I– my dad– he– he bought it from someone.”

“Who, then?”

“I don’t remember.”

The figure’s gaze narrows. “Are you _ sure _ you don’t?”

“Yes.”

A bead of sweat trickles down his forehead.

They hold his gaze a moment longer before finally nodding. “Alright. Who _ is _ your dad?”

“He’s the Chief of Berk.”

The human seems to be in the process of turning away when they freeze at that information, turning back. “Berk?”

“Yeah, you know, that island with—“

“No, I know what you’re talking about. I...never mind. I just...why were you with _ dragons?_”

He shrugs. “My dad wanted me to see them.”

“You had a knife.”

“It’s not like I was gonna _ use it—_“

“In your _ hand,_” the human interrupts. If the figure’s face was visible beyond their eyes, Ezra’s sure they would be raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time. It’s not like you’re going back to Berk anytime soon.”

“Yeah, but there’s a bunch of bloodthirsty _ dragons _ waiting to eat me!”

The human glances around before their gaze moves back down to Ezra. “They don’t seem very keen on eating people at the moment,” he observes.

“How– can you– can you _ understand _ them?”

They hesitate before nodding. “To an extent.”

“Who...who _ are _ you?” he whispers, shaking. He takes a step back. Father had assured him no one else had his abilities. That he _ alone _ held the fate of the Archipelago in his hands.

And now, there’s an unknown element in the equation.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“No, it– it does. Tell me who you are, or I won’t– I won’t talk.”

“You’re grasping at straws, kid.”

“I’m not a kid!”

The figure snorts, shaking their head. “You’re younger than me, you’re a kid. Now just tell me why you were holding a knife.”

“You still haven’t even told me who you are. I’m not answering your question until—”

“Alright, _ fine. _ Here, look: you answer my question, I answer yours. Okay?”

Ezra narrows his eyes. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“You don’t.”

He can feel the presence of the dragons surrounding them, including the Fury and the weird one that can flip its head around behind the other human. They weigh on his mind; any possibility of connection just barely unreachable. He’s outnumbered.

Swallowing, Ezra finally nods.

“Alright. Fine. I had the knife because I was cleaning rust off of an old axe my dad has.”

“You were _ cleaning rust._”

“Yeah.”

“With a _ knife._”

He nods again, uneasiness curling in his stomach.

The human holds his gaze a moment longer before shrugging. “Okay.”

“Now answer mine.”

The figure laughs bitterly, turning halfway before gesturing. “To do that, you’re going to have to come with me.”

He hesitates before nodding, following the human as he leads the way into another tunnel. The dragons follow behind, too close for comfort but far enough that the other human would undoubtedly say he shouldn’t be worried. Ahead, his eyes are still trained on the fiery sword. A part of him wonders if the human is really human at all, or something _ else _ now.

They round a corner and light opens up before them. The figure suddenly moves to the side, and Ezra copies him in time to avoid the sudden stampede of dragons from behind. They rush out toward the light, many taking flight immediately. Eir, he notices, is one of the ones who doesn’t.

As soon as they’re gone, the figure gestures for him to follow and moves forward again. Ezra follows, blinking into the bright light and stopping.

“What..._is _ this place?”

Dragons fly across—well, _ something, _ but there’s so many dragons he can’t see what that _ something _ is. He catches sight of a few waterfalls and larger rock formations.

But the _ dragons. _

None of them seem to be even _ thinking _ of attacking them.

“A refuge.”

He glances back at the figure, surprised to see their—_his, _ he now realizes—face uncovered. He has the beard that pretty much everyone on Berk has, though his is more...scruffy, unrefined, in a way. That comes from living with dragons, he supposes.

It’s not the beard that draws his attention, however. It’s the scars and burns along the man’s lower jaw. The burns, he can understand. The others, though, look more like they were made by a human weapon than the claws of a dragon. _ What _ weapon, he has no clue.

“Seeing your face doesn’t answer my question,” he says finally. The man laughs, the same short, bitter sound he heard in the large cavern.

“It’s not like you’d know who I am, anyway.”

“I need something to call you.”

Rolling his eyes, the man shrugs, pulling his gaze away and turning to look out over the sanctuary again. “Caleb,” he says softly. “They called me Caleb.”

Caleb.

_ Caleb. _

“You l– _ left _ your wife and daughter behind! They think you’re _ dead!_”

He turns back to Ezra, gaze stormy as he stalks closer. The teen flinches back, forcing his breath to even out.

“Don’t you _ dare _ assume I left her of my own volition,” he growls. “I thought _ she _ was dead. And if I thought I could go back to Berk without the entire village crying for my head, don’t you think I would have?!”

Ezra steps back, swallowing. “I– I’m sorry—”

Caleb raises a hand, rubbing his eye with the other and sighing. The sudden flip of his demeanor is enough to make Ezra wonder if he’s not the only unhinged one here—well, that, and the fact that Caleb apparently isn’t afraid of dragons. “Just...tell me how she is. I...I need to know.”

“Hera?”

“Who else?” he mutters.

“She’s...okay, I think. I only ever see her daughter though.”

Caleb’s eyes open again. His voice lowers as he takes a step closer to Ezra.

“What _ daughter?_”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this extra long chapter is partly to make up for a lack of OD&F and LAC this week and partly because I couldn't find a good part to stop it at before the end soooo


	6. The Flight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Long-term Effects of Gaslighting, Referenced Kidnapping

“I  _ promise, _ Mother, he has a dragon—“

“Sabine. Ezra is  _ insane. _ He’s  _ mad, _ Sabine! He may have told you he has a dragon, but—“

“He  _ does! _ I saw it with my own eyes—“

“I’m not sure  _ what _ you saw, but it wasn’t a dragon. That’s  _ enough. _ ” Her mother’s gaze hardens. “I understand you’re worried, but I don’t want you spreading more rumors about Maul’s son. We already have enough.” She sighs, closing her eyes. She opens them when she speaks again. “Please. I don’t want them to start talking about you, too.”

Sabine nods, obliging. “Okay. Do you know when Maul’s getting back?”

“Hopefully soon. If he’s gone much longer….”

Her mother doesn’t have to finish the thought. If Maul’s gone any longer with the rest of the group he took to find Ezra after the boy’s mad dash into the woods, it’s a bad sign. Berk isn’t big. And the woods are filled with dragons.

Ezra may be friends with that runt—she  _ knows _ what she saw, and it  _ was _ a dragon—but that certainly won’t apply to the others. And a hungry dragon means death for the defenseless.

“Zeb’s getting some of the others together for dragon training while they’re all gone. Do you want to go practice with them?”

She hesitates before nodding. “Yeah. That...sounds good.”

Her mother smiles, tucking a hair that’s slipped out of Sabine’s plait back behind her ear. “Alright. I’m going to go check on Numa and the baby. If you need anything—“

“I’ll be fine,” Sabine interrupts, forcing a smile. She waits until Mother leaves, then counts to sixty twice under her breath before slipping out the back way.

She brings her axe along, too.

* * *

“So you’re telling me that I have a  _ daughter, _ and what’s more, she’s training with  _ your _ dad to replace  _ you? _ ”

“Yes.”

Caleb shakes his head, throwing his hands up in the air as he continues to pace. His dragon, the weird one that confronted Ezra when he woke up, raises his head from where it’s tucked into his tail. He tilts his head curiously, a soft but unthreatening growl escaping his throat as he watches Caleb.

“But—why  _ her? _ What does the Chief want with her? Why not anyone else? I mean, there  _ have _ to be others, right?”

“Yeah. I never see them, but I think– I think there are. I’ve heard her and Father mention them.”

“So why did he choose  _ her? _ ”

Ezra shrugs. “I mean, does it really matter all that much? Clearly he thinks she’s the right choice, or at least a better choice than me.”

“But I was gone; she wouldn’t have learned half of what she was supposed to. Hera and I, we– we planned to split teaching her, so I don’t know if she ever got around to my part—“ He stops in his pacing, facing away from Ezra and swallowing hard. When he finally speaks again, his voice is slightly hoarse. “It just doesn’t make sense.”

“Well—“

“No, kid, it  _ doesn’t. _ There’s other kids, kids he  _ knows _ have had both parents and everything they needed to know taught to them since birth. There’s something we’re missing. Something about her that Maul sees and we don’t.”

“Wait, what do you mean,  _ we? _ ”

Ezra’s eyes narrow as Caleb clarifies. “Well, it’s my kid, and your dad. You’re helping.”

“You  _ kidnapped _ me.”

He shrugs. “Technically, Stormskimmer did that. I just enabled him.”

Caleb’s dragon sits back on its haunches, warbling loudly. Ezra rolls his eyes.

“Well when can I go back?”

“On your own?”

He nods. Caleb laughs in response.

“Kid, I’m not taking you back alone just so you can tell everyone where all this is.” He spreads a hand to the valley below, where dragons call and flap across the open air. Ezra has to admit that the chaos  _ is _ kind of beautiful, in a way. “No way. These creatures are peaceful. They don’t need our kind hunting and killing them in their last sanctuary.”

“And what if I promised I  _ wouldn’t _ tell anyone else?”

“Given your track record, I wouldn’t believe you. And, by the way, kid—telling people you’re insane doesn’t help to improve your credibility.”

“It’s true.”

“Still doesn’t help your case.”

Ezra sighs. “Fine. But...how did you...where did you even  _ come up with _ the idea to  _ ride _ dragons? They’re...they’re not horses.”

Caleb nods. “They aren’t.”

“Then how…?”

“Look, kid. If you’re alone long enough, without humans, you start to do some pretty crazy things. You get bored. You miss things, you miss places, you miss  _ people. _ I wanted a way to, at the least, check in on Hera. Even if I knew Berk wouldn’t accept me back. Dragons fly, they’ve got wide enough backs for the most part, so I thought why  _ couldn’t  _ you ride one?”

Ezra blinks, staring. “You’re crazy,” he whispers.

Caleb grins.

“Like I said. It’s the dragons.”

Behind him, Stormskimmer warbles again, four wings shifting restlessly.

* * *

Ezra manages to hold out for several more days before asking while he follows Caleb during feeding time.

“Can I ride one?”

Caleb shoots him a look. “Ride what?”

“A dragon.”

“Didn’t you tell me you were terrified of them just a few days ago?”

“Well that was a few days ago.”

Caleb sighs, rolling his eyes heavenward. “Odin help me.”

It’s Loki that decides to help, however, because he teaches Ezra to fly a few days later.

* * *

“No, you’re holding too tight with your legs, you need to loosen up—“

“Like this?”

Ezra takes his legs all the way off so there’s at least six inches of airspace between them and the saddle. Caleb wants to scream.

“Do you  _ want _ to fall off? No. Get your legs  _ on, _ but don’t  _ strangle _ him. Stormskimmer knows what to do.”

The dragon beneath Ezra rumbles in agreement, shifting his weight.

Ezra yelps and nearly slides off.

“Look, just put your feet in the stirrups, like—yes! Like that! Freeze. Memorize how that feels. You got it?” Ezra nods. “Good. Now I want you to shift your feet so your heels are down.”

Ezra does so, glancing at them. “Like that?”

“Yeah, yeah exactly. There you go.”

“What do I hold onto?”

“Uh…” Caleb honestly hasn’t thought about that much. Most of the time, he just grips the front of the saddle. Stormskimmer’s frills are more for reflecting sounds forward so he can hear; pulling too hard could risk damaging them. “Try the saddle.”

Frowning in concentration, Ezra feels for the front of it and grips the edge. “Could you ride one without a saddle?”

“I did that at first,” Caleb nods in confirmation, “and it hurt like Helheim.”

“Oh.”

“Well, don’t you want to actually fly him?”

Ezra blinks before looking back down, raking a hand through his hair. “Ah, right, yeah. How do I tell him…?”

“Just ask him to go.” He shrugs.

Tightening his grip, the boy inhales shapely, exhaling in the same breath he shouts, “Go!” in.

Stormskimmer takes off, Ezra screaming the entire way.

Caleb grins.


	7. The Murder

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Animal Abuse, Violent Animal Death

Sabine swallows, mouth dry, and adjusts her grip on her axe.

There’s a ship.

A ship she doesn’t recognize.

It sits in the cove, silent, and she bites her lip. The sigil on the flag is recognizable, but only vaguely; a sword plunging into the heart of a Monstrous Nightmare before out its back and into the abyss of the fabric.

Sabine knows she’s seen it. But not _ where. _

And as she watches, a figure breaks from the treeline and approaches.

“Qi’ra!” he calls. It takes her a minute to place him, but when she does, she gasps. The man pauses, looking up toward her.

_ He can’t see you the trees are blocking you you’re all right you’re safe— _

He resumes his walk to the shore. Soon, a small boat drops from the unfamiliar ship with a light splash, and Sabine can make out three figures aboard as it glides toward land. When it grounds, two of the figures—one’s a woman, Sabine realizes; her dark hair plaited tightly down her back and over an odd cloak while the other two appear to be male—step out while the third remains.

The chief of Berk walks toward them.

She can’t make out anything else he says to them, or they to him. But as the conversation continues, the woman withdraws an object from a satchel and gestures with it, pointing it at Maul. When the rising sun glints off of it, Sabine bites her lip.

It’s a dagger.

Maul, for his part, appears unperturbed, simply pushing the blade away with a hand before beginning to speak again. Eventually, however, the trio breaks apart, the two strangers returning to the third in their dinghy and casting off toward the larger ship again. Maul watches them go in silence before turning, heading back the way he came.

Sabine allows herself one more moment before getting up and bolting back toward the village. She needs to get there first, to get Mother to listen. Something is wrong here. Very, _ very _ wrong.

And she still hasn’t seen any sign of Ezra.

* * *

Ezra decides to leave for sure two days after he learns to fly.

Well, _ learn _ being a loose term. More like _ experienced it. _

After all, not falling off had to count for _ something, _ right?

He waits until the rare moment when both Caleb and Stormskimmer are asleep before creeping out of the cavern Caleb assigned to him only a few days previous. He slips down the hall, silently glad that somehow Stormskimmer doesn’t wake. The Monstrous Nightmares are in one of the nearby caverns, he knows, when they roost for the night. Maybe one of them will be out, or at least far enough away from the others, that he can leave with it unseen.

And of course, there are none outside.

He holds his breath as he enters the cavern, eyes flitting from dragon to dragon across the space. The massive creatures all seem to be sound asleep.

Swallowing and finally starting to breathe, Ezra approaches the one nearest the exit. He holds his breath once more as he puts a hand out, barely brushing the dragon’s snout.

Its eyes snap open.

He can feel its confusion and panic and _ anger _ at being disturbed.

_ I’m here because I need help. Because you’re the best one. You’re better than the other dragons. _

Father taught him how to play off of dragons’, and Monstrous Nightmares’ in particular, arrogance long ago. It looks like his lessons are coming in handy once again.

Finally the dragon huffs, a breath of steam puffing up from its nostrils before it rises and moves to the tunnel entrance. It stops, glaring back at him as if to ask why he isn’t following.

Swallowing hurriedly, Ezra rushes over.

When the dragon finally leads him outside of the massive, glacial structure, he can’t believe his eyes.

“It’s...it’s so….”

The dragon huffs, shifting its weight and drawing Ezra’s attention back to it.

“Oh! Right.” He pulls his attention away from the impressive, open expanse of moonlit ocean ahead of them and back to the dragon. The creature snorts and rolls its eyes, growling quietly as it shifts its wings aside to allow Ezra space to board. The teen barely has his legs touching the dragon’s sides when it shifts and jumps off the cliff.

He screams.

The dragon opens its wings after not even a second, slowing their descent long enough for Ezra to get into a safer position before it speeds up again. He swallows, forcing himself to stop screaming as he grips onto its neck and tries to ignore the way the dragon’s scales cut through the fabric of his trousers and chafe against his legs. That’s a problem to worry about later, when he’s far away, both from this place and Caleb’s insanity.

After a while, the steady rhythm of the dragon’s occasional wingbeats and the sea speeding below them becomes monotonous, and Ezra nearly dozes off several times. Each time, he closes his eyes long enough to see Father about to kill Eir before he wakes to the Nightmare nudging him awake before he can fall into the ocean.

They land on an island a few hours from Caleb’s glacier and stop for the morning; the sun has barely begun to peek over the horizon when the dragon touches down and Ezra dismounts. The creature slinks off into the woods with a quiet growl, watching Ezra with what can only be described as a neutral gaze as the boy curls up below a tree to sleep away the day. He gets the odd impression that, if he were so inclined, the dragon would even go so far as to allow him to sleep _ next _ to it.

But he knows what most dragons are like when provoked. Especially these ones. And Ezra is very good at provoking things.

He sleeps alone.

* * *

And wakes to a blade in his face.

A roar from behind is what startles him into scooting backward, however. His breathing starts to speed up as he twists around to see the Monstrous Nightmare he rode into the dawn rearing up and flapping its wings at several Vikings brandishing spears before bursting into flames.

“Leave it alone!” he yells, moving all the way out of range of his sax-wielding assailant before turning to scramble to his feet. He runs toward the dragon and it catches sight of him, raising its head and roaring again before beginning its own slithering run toward him.

A pained cry tears itself from the creature’s mouth without warning.

It takes him a moment to catch the arrow embedded in the dragon’s snout, likely the cause of its distress. The flame smothering the rest of its body flickers before its head sparks into an inferno in an effort to burn the dragon root weapon.

And then the chains come.

He’s not sure what metal they’re made of, only that it’s the same kind as the cages aboard Qi’ra’s ship. The Nightmare’s fire stops for a second as it thrashes, confused. Its panic runs through Ezra’s mind, a constant stream of _ what’s happening what’s happening why aren’t wings working why can’t fly why what who how— _

Somehow, Ezra hears the footsteps above the noise.

He turns as a figure approaches. He knows who she is, but it doesn’t click, even as she strides past calmly and with the air of a chieftess. Her crimson cloak of scales—scales, he realizes, probably for the first time, that are from a Monstrous Nightmare—is eerily still as she approaches the furious dragon.

It’s back in flames again, shoving against the weight of the chains holding it down. As the woman stops in front of it, it hesitates, glaring down at her.

She walks forward as the men restraining it allow the chains to loosen to where the creature can lift its head. It rises to its full height, smoke puffing out of its nostrils as it growls.

She draws a sword. Studies the dragon a moment longer.

And, heedless of the fire engulfing it, Qi’ra plunges the sax into its chest.


End file.
